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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616729">Long Live</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmungoe/pseuds/missmungoe'>missmungoe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shanties for the Weary Voyager [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Face-Sitting, Longing, Loving Marriage, Reunion Sex, Romance, Tenderness, Usual Crew Shenanigans, and a fleet of navy warships, where Makino gets a surprise visit for her birthday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:21:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmungoe/pseuds/missmungoe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Any other time, Makino thought she would have followed that suggestion, recognising her position, now more than ever before, but watching as he turned away to cross the deck―</p><p>“No,” she said, and saw Shanks turn his head, as they all looked at her.</p><p>“Let them know who I am.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Makino</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shanties for the Weary Voyager [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/581281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>153</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Long Live</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Writing for a ship who are canonically, geographically far apart, I’m always looking for reasons to bring them together, and if you’ve read…well, any of my stories about them, you might have noticed that I have an, er, thing for reunions. I also wanted to write something kind (and dirty, fair warning) for my favourite girl’s bday.</p><p>Happy birthday to Makino!</p><p>Set during the current storyline/Wano arc.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her birthday happened on the same date every year, and yet this year, it caught her by surprise.</p><p>She hadn’t been paying attention to the days, but then she’d been trying her hardest <em> not </em> to think about time passing, because as with the watched pot boiling, it seemed to go by slower the more she thought about it. And while it was impossible to not notice the passage of time with their son growing and changing before her eyes, the same couldn’t be said for the days themselves, bleeding into one another, until she could barely tell them apart.</p><p>This day would be no different, no matter the date’s significance. It was just another day, and marked nothing but the addition of a number.</p><p>The calendar stared back at her from the wall. The 23rd had a bright red circle around it, and a little smiley face. Makino couldn’t remember marking it, but she’d recognise her husband’s doodling at a glance, and felt how her heart seized now, seeing it.</p><p>He would have known she wouldn’t try to celebrate it, the reminder left for her to find by the one who knew her down to her soul, except she didn’t know if it was joy she felt, staring at the bright red circle, and the little grinning face beside it. As though encouraging her to celebrate herself, as he would have done.</p><p>She hadn’t planned a celebration. To be honest, she couldn’t stand the thought of it, when the people she wanted to celebrate with were oceans away. But that was fine; she wasn’t used to big celebrations anyway. The only times she’d ever had a party thrown for her had been his doing.</p><p>Thirty-two. And she didn’t mind getting older, or to celebrate that; it was the fact that she’d be celebrating without him she didn’t like. That her birthday only marked another year they were apart, but that wasn’t even what bothered her the most.</p><p>It was the fear that it was only the first of many, and that next year, she’d be standing here in the same spot, thirty-three, and he still wouldn’t have come home. That she’d be thirty-four, and nothing would have changed, and that the year after would be the same, and the next, and she’d be a young, lonely widow, watching their son grow up and regretting her choices, her own cowardice more than anything, for not choosing him―<em>all </em> of him, not just as her husband but his way of life, the whole sea he would have given her had she only asked him. Like she’d imagined herself doing once, when she’d been twenty and foolish, and <em> brave </em> most of all.</p><p>She didn’t know where that girl had gone. Maybe the years had whittled her away, that it was an inevitable part of growing older, to lose the things that had once made you fearless.</p><p>Her breath left her heavily, as Makino dragged her gaze from the calendar and the date where he’d marked it, and went to open her bar.</p><p>At least work took her mind off things. Dadan and her family came down for breakfast, and aside from her patrons congratulating her, the day progressed in much the same fashion as the one before it. Her gifts were humble, although largely due to her own insistence that they were unnecessary―a new pair of boots from the local cobbler, small and delicate in soft leather; a set of cooking knives, and a bottle of homebrew from Dadan’s own cellar that she was told was an effective remedy for heartsickness/paint remover. Practical things for her practical life, nothing out of the ordinary, and while she appreciated them all, there was a part of her that would have welcomed something surprising, even if she had no use for it.</p><p>But ordinary was good―was safe, and predictable. It didn’t give you expectations, or hopes and dreams that could never be fulfilled, but she did wonder at his influence sometimes, the wishfulness he’d instilled in her, that she couldn’t keep herself from hoping now, that something else would happen. Except it wouldn’t, Makino knew. They’d both agreed that this was for the best, and with the current state of the world, she couldn’t put her own selfish wishes first, even if it was just to hope he'd come back.</p><p>But she would invoke a small part of him, she decided, as the dishes stacked up and the day crawled to a close. When she was done closing up the bar, she would check on their son, and then have two glasses of whiskey in celebration; one for herself, and one for him. Because he would have wanted her to, but a bit for her sake, too. Thirty-two years old.</p><p>“Sure you don’t want company?”</p><p>Dadan watched her from across the counter. It was well past her last call, but Makino had declined the offer of them staying, in spite of their suggestions. None of them were particularly keen on her living alone, as though any day, a vagrant might wander off the highroad from Goa and steal into her bar, ignoring the fact that they were the only bandits for miles around.</p><p>Wiping her hands on her apron, Makino shook her head. “I think I’d just like to be alone tonight.”</p><p>Dadan didn’t look convinced, even as her acceptance was offered without argument, but, “Well you know where you’ve got us,” she said, with a nod at her family where they filed out of her bar. “Just say the word and we’ll come get you. I’ll make the bed in the loft, and we'll help with your boy. Give you an extra hour of sleep tomorrow.”</p><p>Her hard look told Makino it hadn't escaped them that she'd been having trouble sleeping.</p><p>Her smile wavered, and her gratitude wasn’t feigned when she told her, “I really appreciate that, Dadan.”</p><p>Dadan’s gaze went to the Den Den Mushi, sitting behind her counter. “Would it be so dangerous?” she asked then, surprising her. “Just to call him for five minutes? Knowing Red-Hair, I don’t think he’d need more.”</p><p>Her smile fell, but oh, put like that it sounded so <em> easy</em>, eroded the invisible boundary she’d put between herself and their one method of communication. And he’d told her to call him if anything happened, but it was a safeguard in case she was ever in danger, not because it was her birthday and she was lonely, although that wasn’t unique to this particular day, and at least where that was concerned, it felt no different from any other day of the week.</p><p>It sounded so simple in theory, to dial the number and then they’d be talking, and in that moment, Makino thought she would have given anything just to hear his voice, even if it was only for five minutes. Had she been allowed to wish for a birthday present, she thought it would have been that. Anyone else might have wished for more, to see him, and touch him, but she didn’t want to tempt the Fates, even with her dreams, for fear that if she did, and if she allowed herself to be even a little selfish, like calling him, it might cost her everything.</p><p>She turned her gaze away from the Den Den Mushi. “I can’t risk it.”</p><p>Dadan’s expression didn’t agree, although it seemed to be with the situation and not her reasoning, but she didn’t argue, and took her leave, gruffly wishing her a good night as she left her to close up.</p><p>Their son was sound asleep when she checked on him, old enough now to sleep through the night, which might have been a welcome milestone, granting her some extra hours of sleep, except she didn’t get much sleep these days, lying awake into the late hours in her empty bed with her fears, his vivre card worried between her fingers. At least her baby had kept her busy, those first few months where he’d wake at the worst imaginable hours, but now the silence had grown unbearable, and so much that she’d taken to completing unnecessary chores while closing up, just to postpone having to go to bed.</p><p>She finished mopping the floors, and had put all the chairs on the tables but one, where she’d placed her best bottle of whiskey and two tumblers, and her apron where she’d untied it. A single candle guttered in its brass holder, the rest of her bar dark but for the lamp she’d brought with her into the storeroom. The last thing on her list, before she’d call it a night.</p><p>“Just you and me tonight, hm?” she asked the ledger where it lay open. “Don’t suppose you've got a pirate lord hiding in there,” she murmured, her fingertips skimming over the list of liquors and foodstuffs, as though it really would yield something else, if she only looked.</p><p>She hesitated, but it only took turning a few pages to find a different handwriting filling them.</p><p>It was from right after their son had been born. She’d been so exhausted from nursing and no sleep, she’d been in no state to see to her bar, but her business had continued, unhindered by her brief leave of absence, the evidence staring back at her now in his cheerful handwriting, having picked up her routines so seamlessly, there’d been no mistakes, no missed orders or incomplete shipments. For all his insistence that his first mate was the one with a mind for organisation, Makino wasn’t fooled, staring at the lists now, meticulously executed, with a captain’s savvy judgement.</p><p>A cute doodle of her looked up from the bottom of the page, and she huffed, brushing her thumb across it tenderly.</p><p>Turning the pages until she reached a blank one, Makino tried to gather the threads of her focus enough to finish the task she’d set out to do.</p><p>She didn’t know how long she spent going over the lists, checking the crates from her morning’s shipment, once, then twice, hoping to coax her eyelids into drooping but with no luck, and aside from the lamp, it was fully dark when she was startled out of her concentration by the sound of the bat-wing doors swinging inwards.</p><p>She frowned, ears perked as she listened. It had been late when she’d started. No one in the village would be up at this hour, let alone hankering for a drink.</p><p>The doors stopped swinging, the soft whine leaving a quiet so profound, she wondered if she’d only imagined someone coming in, and had almost dismissed the whole thing as a figment of her imagination when she heard the sound of footsteps, walking across her bar.</p><p>The old floorboards creaked under a calm gait, before she realised with a stuttering breath that they were headed towards the storeroom, but just before panic could seize her, she froze.</p><p>She knew that gait, the long, sure strides, although more than anything, she knew his presence, but then she would have known it anywhere.</p><p>She held her breath, her heartbeat counting the seconds as she listened to the approaching footsteps where they walked around the counter towards the door to her pantry. She had her back turned to it, facing the shelves by the inner wall, but she didn’t dare make herself turn around.</p><p>Had it been real, she would have dropped what she was doing and run into the common room, but she held herself completely still, not wanting to startle herself awake. She must have fallen asleep doing inventory, tucked between the shelves, her foolish dreams of him coming home to whisk her away having followed her into sleep, spurred to life by well-visited memories, and fantasies she’d never even shared with him. And it wasn’t the real thing, but she’d take it.</p><p>Still holding her breath, she didn’t move, her hand shaking around the pen where she’d been taking notes in the ledger, open on the shelf level with her waist.</p><p>The doorstep creaked loudly, before the footsteps behind her stopped.</p><p>Any moment now, she would wake up. The second before he touched her, she’d startle awake, reaching for him, not even allowed to have this, even in her own dreams.</p><p>Hoping to prolong it, if such a thing was possible, she tried to focus, but then she’d had lucid dreams before, and while it usually gave her the control to will herself awake, this time Makino willed herself to remain asleep.</p><p>Allowing the breath she’d been holding to ease out, she calmed her breathing, although her heart couldn’t be willed into the same submission, racing furiously in her chest as she listened to him come inside, the boards singing, the sound jarringly loud in the cramped storeroom.</p><p>She saw the lamplight shifting, accommodating a tall, dark figure, the shadows sent dancing as a shiver crept up her spine, the invisible trail of rough, familiar fingers causing her skin to pebble with goosebumps.</p><p>Then those same fingers brushed over the back of her neck, and her breath seized.</p><p>She hadn’t expected the touch, or for it to feel so real, and held her breath as calloused fingers trailed over her skin where the wide neckline of her blouse bared it, the sweeping brush of his thumb over the top of her spine causing it to arch as her breath stuttered.</p><p>She felt him move her hair over her shoulder where she’d gathered it loosely at her nape, the tender gesture making her heart clench in her chest, and so painfully she had to bite down over the whimper that pushed against her teeth.</p><p>Her eyes had squeezed shut, and she held completely still, as though if she was good and didn’t look back, she could have this, recalling the old tragedy of the musician and his muse, and the conditions set for their reunion.</p><p>And this wasn’t the first time she’d let a fantasy run away with her, her imagination requiring little prompting where he was concerned, but never had it felt so vivid, feeling the imaginary heat of his body behind her, like he was really there.</p><p>Smiling lips brushed the back of her neck, the tender scrape of his beard causing her breath to hitch softly, the sensation so real it had more goosebumps firming her skin.</p><p>A big hand curved over the crease of her thigh, sliding inwards, still atop her skirt but the slight friction and the heat of his skin through the fabric had her gasping, this too shockingly <em> real</em>.</p><p>“Saw the light was on,” his voice rumbled into her ear where his nose nuzzled her neck, but then she knew it so well it didn’t take much to bring it to life, the deep timbre and the teasing inflections. “Came to see if you were open.”</p><p>As though in cheeky suggestion, his hand bunched in her skirt, slipping beneath it and up her thigh, seeking her, and her mouth parted with a gasp at the caress, so starved of it she couldn’t stop the sound that left her now as she arched back against his chest, her hands reaching to support herself on the shelf.</p><p>A deep chuckle sounded in answer; Makino felt it through her back where it reached within her, all the way down to the ache between her legs. “Oh?” His fingers brushed her panties, already soaked, and she felt his breath where it shuddered, his beard brushing the sensitive skin of her neck as he nipped it, before his voice rumbled, “Were you waiting for me?”</p><p>Oh, leave it to her imagination to dredge this up from her depths, to spin his voice to life so convincingly, it forced her to admit this; that for all her stubborn attempts at not hoping, at not wishing so badly he would come today, knowing he wouldn’t, it was exactly what she’d been doing. And even now he wasn’t really here, had been summoned by her longing and her sleep-deprived mind, but hearing him ask her, she could only answer with the truth, as his thumb circled her through her underwear, the touch so frustratingly light she sobbed, her voice pulling from her lips, raw with her confession, and the grief that poured out along with it.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>.”</p><p>His hand stilled, as though her voice had for a second made him reconsider, and panicked that he really would disappear, Makino acted before he could.</p><p>Spurred by the fantasy, she let it take her, and while their attempts at roleplay usually ended up with her in stitches, unable to help it when he got into character, or too embarrassed to respond if she became too aware of herself, something about this gave her courage, the safe borders of her imagination allowing her a rare freedom from her shyness as she pressed down against his hand, her own flying up to grip the supports of the shelves, her spine curved as she bent, submissive, a blatant offer of herself as breathed, “Take me, then.”</p><p>She might have been shocked by the sound of her own voice, the wish uttered so wantonly, although was distracted by his reaction, his hand seizing around her thigh like she’d caught him off guard.</p><p>His breath rushed out audibly, the sound almost guttural, and had it been real she would have delighted in surprising him.</p><p>For a beat, the Shanks in her imagination did nothing, which gave her pause, but before she could consider it any closer, her skirt was lifted roughly, up and over her hips, before calloused fingers grazed her skin as he dragged her underthings down with surprising force, although hadn’t pulled them past her knees when he suddenly plunged one finger inside her, startling a gasp from her chest, but she was so wet it met no resistance, thick where it filled her, pushing deeper, before he began to fuck her, and then she was crying out, and from relief more than pleasure, but that was quick to follow as he gave another deep thrust, lifting her toes off the planks as she clenched around his fingers.</p><p>She gasped when he withdrew, her toes curling in her boots, before she heard the rustle of fabric as he unfastened his pants, and wasn’t given long to miss him inside her before his cock pressed against the backs of her thighs, and spread her legs instinctively, and when he entered her the relief was so great it eclipsed the usual discomfort as she stretched around him, dizzyingly big, her mouth parted over a silent cry, her voice lost but for a faint, pleading gasp that had his breath ripping from him.</p><p>His hand closed around hers where she gripped the support, so big it covered it completely, the calluses on his palm rough against her knuckles, and when he gave a thrust of his hips it sent the bottles rattling in their crates, the small detail reaching her through the haze, seeming almost too specific for her mind to bother with. But the thought was fleeting, lost as he gave another thrust, forcing her to take him deeper, her body taut from the strain of being stretched around him, but releasing her breath helped as he continued, setting an even pace as she struggled to fit him.</p><p>His face bent towards her ear, “Let’s see if you can take all of me,” before he pushed deeper, increasing his pace, barely allowing her to adjust as he fucked her harder where she half-clung to the shelf, her breaths coming in pants, before he gave a thrust so hard she rocked forward with a startled cry, and heard his chuckle, rough and approving as he rumbled, “Good girl.”</p><p>Then, the scrape of his beard against her throat, his presence filling her as his voice found her, firm and edged with a command that shot straight between her legs, “I’ll have you come before I’m done with you.”</p><p>Her moan was pleading, and she wasn't thinking, was swept up in the moment and his presence, the slide of his thick cock inside her and his big frame where it dwarfed hers, tiny against him but her surrender willing under that calm command. And it wasn’t unusual for them, this dynamic, built from trust and an intimate knowledge of boundaries, but the heady setting seemed amplified by her own imagination, as though an unnamed rogue really had stolen into her bar to ravish her; a pirate lord who’d claimed a tavern wench his own for the night, even if she knew his name, shaped on her mouth as she climbed towards her peak, her lips parted around the syllables, but what left her instead was a broken cry as she finally came, gripping the supports.</p><p>She felt when he followed, convulsing as he thrust inside her painfully, shuddering into her with a gasp, before his hand released hers, and she felt his arm come around her, his palm splayed over her belly, large enough to span it whole, and wondered if he was holding her up, but then if she wasn’t gripping the supports Makino thought she would have sunk to her knees.</p><p>They remained like that for a beat as she came down, his cock still inside her, her spine curved and hands aching where they gripped the shelf, her body surrendered to him utterly and completely.</p><p>Pulling out caused her to gasp, a half-pained sound, her knees trembling, but he didn’t release her, holding her as he bent over her tiny frame.</p><p>A gusting laugh by her ear then, “Christ, you’re hot.” He sounded winded, and still laughing, “What the hell, this was<em> not </em>how I thought this reunion would go. I swear, every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you do something to prove me wrong.”</p><p>Makino stilled.</p><p>As good as she was at imagining his voice, the exact lilt and the sound of it, <em> that </em> was a little too perfect even for her imagination, words only he would have used, and that unique adoration that always sounded a little short of breath.</p><p>For one heart-stopping beat, she didn’t move, still wrapped in the warm daze of her climax and his arm, but blinking her eyes, she didn’t wake up, and was still gripping the shelf. She felt him behind her, his large frame and his warm breath where it fanned over the crown of her head, and the big hand splayed over her belly. He hadn’t disappeared.</p><p>Her hands shook as she released the supports, but turning around, she wasn’t prepared―had thought looking back would do it, that if she was too greedy she’d get nothing at all, and she’d find herself alone between the shelves, but instead of trickster-shadows, what greeted her was a familiar shirt, and an even more familiar half-bared chest, taut pectorals and sun-darkened skin swept with dark hair.</p><p>She saw the chain holding his wedding ring where it dipped under the half-open front. With the top of her head barely level with his sternum, she couldn’t see his face when he was standing so close, and for an unbearable second, Makino didn’t dare.</p><p>Then she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes seeking the features she knew, and the smile, which could be both filthy and tender without compromising either feeling.</p><p>Her hand moved of its own accord, shaking fingers grazing his chest, at first with the expectation that he’d vanish the moment she touched him, but when he didn’t, her palm pressed over his taut stomach, trembling, finding his skin shockingly warm, and solid. This was no apparition spun to life by her longing.</p><p>Her voice shook, her disbelief so stark it had swept away every trace of her earlier bliss. “You―”</p><p>Shanks’ grin was wolfish, and she started when his hand lifted to tuck her hair behind her ear where her kerchief sat askew. “I really hope that was me you were imagining, and not one of your fictional vicars. Or me in vicar’s garb, at least.”</p><p>Her eyes shot to his, her mouth parted around words that wouldn’t come, that she’d buried so deep, those long weeks of waiting, she couldn’t even find them now, to welcome him home.</p><p>His smile softened, and his eyes, and that was what did it―the look that was hers, and that she’d never been able to bring to life with her imagination, no matter how many times she’d tried to commit to memory. The way he would see her, not as she pretended to be but as she was.</p><p>Her arms flung around his neck as she shoved away from the shelves, and the shattering<em> sob </em> that left her sounded like a question, but his laughter was quick to soften it, winded like she’d knocked it from his chest, a deep, gusting chuckle as he pulled her close, his nose tucked into the hollow of her throat as he breathed her in. His arm shook; Makino felt it where it had wrapped around her back, as he let go of a shuddering breath.</p><p>She gripped his hair, but he didn’t slip through her fingers, remained instead solid in her arms, his body as she remembered, the strong frame of it unyielding, and she didn’t wake up as she gasped, her sobs without sound where she clutched him to her.</p><p>A broad palm flattened over her shoulder blades, warm through her dress, and, “There she is,” Shanks chuckled, and with such an aching tenderness, Makino was glad he was holding her up.</p><p>She couldn’t form the words she wanted to speak, didn’t even know what she meant to say, and her voice was hoarse when she managed a weak, “What―”</p><p>His fingers smoothed over her back, soothing the sobs that wracked her small frame. Now that she’d allowed herself to break, she couldn’t stop.</p><p>She felt the breath that left him now, like he’d been holding it, and, “Made it in time,” Shanks said. “At least I think it’s still your birthday. We were cutting it a bit close there at the end.”</p><p>Drawing back to look at him, he eased her down on her heels, although she didn't release him, her trembling hands pressed to his chest. And she was too surprised to speak, as though even seeing him, she hadn’t expected they would all be here―as though he could have just appeared out of the shadows of her storeroom, having stolen across oceans without needing a ship. In that moment, as her gaze roamed his features, darkened with that rakish grace, she could have believed him fully capable of such a feat.</p><p>His thumb swept up to catch her tears, even as they kept coming, rolling down her cheeks. “I came to get you,” Shanks said, and her heart leaped into her throat, full of hope, before he grinned and added, “There’s a party for you on the ship.”</p><p>It fell, and while it wasn’t disappointment she felt at the promise of a party, she couldn’t help the sudden pang of feeling, having thought for a second that he’d meant something else.</p><p>“Speaking of,” Shanks said then, this time with a grin, dirty and delighted as he continued, “I was told to be quick about it, but you know how I get when I watch you work, and then when you did <em> that</em>, I had no choice but to play along.” He chuckled, “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve never been this turned on, which given what you usually do to me is saying something.”</p><p>Makino could only manage a wavering smile, still feeling too much, shock and joy and disbelief blending with the last eddies of her climax, until she wasn’t sure which was the strongest, but after months of longing, and that aching loneliness, it was everything, just to feel happy.</p><p>Her tears were still running freely, but there was no stopping them, and grief didn’t belong with this kind of happiness, but grief had become synonymous with her joy, when their reunions always came with the promise of good-byes, but oh, she was tired, she was so <em> fucking </em> tired of good-byes and of missing him while he was still with her, and she didn’t care if she was wishing for too much now, wanting him to herself for a few hours without thinking of what the world would ask as payment.</p><p>Shanks cocked his head, his brow furrowed, drawing his scars together, and she wondered what he found on her face, from the almost wary look in his eyes. “Makino?”</p><p>She kissed him―took charge this time as she pushed up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down from his considerable height with an insistence that wasn’t asking.</p><p>Bending down, his arm came around her, beneath her hips as he lifted her up, the shelf rattling as he put her on it, but she didn’t break the kiss, which refused to be a parting kiss, that was claiming, wholly and completely and with no intention of letting him go after, her hands gripping his face as she poured herself into it.</p><p>Breaking away enough to look at him, she found his eyes hooded under his scars. Her new perch allowed her to look down at him, but then she didn’t want him behind her now, afraid to look back; wanted to see him, and to watch him as he took her.</p><p>The remnants of her boldness from before lingered, as though the darkened storeroom had kept it, and before she even knew what she was saying―</p><p>“You want to play at being a vicar?” Cupping his cheeks, Makino told him gently, “Then kneel.”</p><p>She caught his startled grin, before it turned filthy, and when her hands pushed his shoulders down he complied, shoving her skirt up and out of the way, his palm flattened over her rear as he pulled her towards the edge of the shelf.</p><p>And this was another dynamic between them, this worship of her, and even normally preferring he take the lead, to submit to his authority, he made it so easy for her to claim her due this way―to feel that she had that authority, laid at her feet the way he would the whole sea, and she didn’t think about <em> wishing </em> now, where she perched on the edge of the shelf, her hands cupping his face. This was no wish, this queen’s decree.</p><p>Her party could wait; right now, she only wanted this private celebration of her, his tongue fucking her until she forgot about the sunrise, or that there would even be a new day tomorrow.</p><p>Spreading her legs, Shanks kissed her inner thighs, slick from herself, his teeth nipping at the hem of her stocking cheekily. She was holding her skirt up, the bunched fabric tucked against her stomach, and her boots were still on and her stockings were slipping, one of them ripped where it had caught on a splinter.</p><p>Another kiss along her thigh, a little further up, just out of reach of her sex, his breath hot and his beard brushing her skin teasingly, but his patience was met with resistance as she arched towards his mouth, and gasped when his tongue sought her, hot and slick where it parted her folds, first a teasing little lick, before he continued, fucking her, and so gently it had her squirming in her seat.</p><p>The dirty laugh between her thighs delighted in her impatience, but then his hand shifted to pull her forward, until she was balancing on the very edge of the shelf. Unwinding her legs from where they'd wrapped around his neck, Makino slipped them down, until her knees were positioned on his broad shoulders, her thighs spread and her sex an inch from his face.</p><p>And kneeling like that, his rugged features darkened with a look that wanted to devour her, he looked more like a rogue than a vicar, or if it was the latter it was an unholy one, as Shanks shrugged off his cloak. His shirt strained temptingly over his broad shoulders and his arm, the muscles taut with tension and restrained strength; the sight made her shiver.</p><p>Their eyes were tethered, the mooring unbroken as she made to tuck her skirt into her waistline, keeping it out of the way, before one small hand reached down to cup his face, brushing over his scars and through his beard, before tipping his chin up gently.</p><p>Then her hands lifted to reach for the supports, holding herself up as she tipped forward, her knees pressing into his shoulders as she lowered herself onto his face, and his tongue, her voice lifting as her hands seized around the supports.</p><p>She started slow, testing her balance as she rocked forward, meeting his tongue where it stroked and licked along her sex, the friction building with the erratic jerk of her hips. His hand gripped her ass, supporting her where she perched, until she found a rhythm, riding his tongue, a soft moan pressed against her teeth, her eyes slipping shut for a moment before they fluttered open.</p><p>Makino watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, unafraid of looking now, and for once unembarrassed by her own actions as she rode his face, his beard wet and his tongue licking her, and his grin somehow the filthiest sight.</p><p>Her knees quaked, trembling atop his shoulders, and her arms ached from holding herself up, moaning as she broke by inches, until it was his name that left her, again and again, as though it had been trapped in her chest, afraid to invoke it lest it tempt the Fates, but she didn’t fear now as she shattered, her thighs clenching around his head as she arched and came, like a wave breaking.</p><p>She didn't take her eyes off him.</p><p> </p><p>―</p><p> </p><p>“Thirty-two, huh?”</p><p>His voice touched the quiet like the tender drag of his fingers over the bare crest of her shoulder, a warm and languid sound, roughened with a chuckle like the callouses in his palm.</p><p>Makino tipped her head to look at him. “Thinking of when you were that age? I'm surprised you remember; it's been so long.”</p><p>She heard him swear under his breath, but his laughter softened it, and she tucked her smile against his chest when Shanks kissed the top of her head, before he sighed, "Demurely shot from the hip, as usual. Nevermind that your target is prone."</p><p>"Well at your age, aren't you usually?"</p><p>He choked on his laugh. Then said, sounding winded, "Oh my <em>god</em>."</p><p>Her grin hurt her cheeks, but stealing a peek at him, the open delight on his face had her stomach flipping, the look in his eyes leaving her feeling suddenly short of breath, before a tender warmth replaced it, that he should inspire it so easily still.</p><p>He hadn’t bothered dressing, after they’d further postponed going back to the ship by paying homage to their first time on the floor of her bar, stark naked where he reclined, stretched out on his back, or at least as much as the storeroom allowed him. The space between the shelves was almost too cramped to fit them both with how big he was, but she didn’t take much room where she’d curled up against his side. He’d drawn his cloak across her to keep her warm, although he seemed comfortable despite the touch of chill in the air, softened by the twenty or so candles where they lit her cramped pantry, covering the shelves above them.</p><p>The bottle of whiskey sat on the planks behind them, the two glasses filled, but they hadn’t touched them.</p><p>“Jokes aside though, it does feel like a long time ago that I was in my early thirties,” Shanks said then, and with a heaviness that held more than just the passage of time, even as his smile lifted when he added, “Shit, I’ll be forty in a few weeks. Still haven’t hit me. Hard to remember when you look this good.”</p><p>Her smile fell, but then she heard what went unspoken, the years they’d been apart. Some days, usually when he was home with her, it felt like they hadn’t even happened, as though no time at all had passed since he’d first docked in her port with the intention of staying a while, but they’d both felt them, and bore the evidence in more than just their greying hairs and deepening lines. In all the years they’d known each other, they’d spent more of them apart than together.</p><p>It was something she'd always been aware of, but it seemed to have gained a new significance lately, when every newspaper had her fearing there’d be no changing it, and that the future ahead of them was briefer than their past.</p><p>Pushing up on her elbow, she observed him where he lay, his brows lifting at her sudden assessment. For all his feigned lamentations about his age, he really was indecently attractive, the epitome of the saying of growing better with age, older and harder, but the years had only deepened the natural ruggedness he'd always had about him, into something that was hard to look at without losing her breath. Still ridiculously built in a way that both defied his years and yet was testament to them, taking in the taut coils of hewn muscle, shaped by a life at sea.</p><p>Her fingers trailed over his chest, seeking the silver scars in between the swathes of dark hair, but there were no new ones, pink and puckered in a way that betrayed a still-healing wound. There were only the ones she knew, and that she could seek with her eyes closed, knowing their cause and who’d given them to him. But while it was a relief to have him back without injuries, it never got easier, letting him go when she couldn’t help but wonder how long until their luck ran out.</p><p>One of his pecs flexed under her fingers, chasing a startled grin across her lips, before the other followed suit, prompting a little laugh, and he repeated it, until she was laughing outright, and almost forgot what she'd been thinking about.</p><p>Her smile softened, as she worried the hair that swept over his abs, and primly ignored his erection where it had responded to her little touches, hard now and no less attention-grabbing than the rest of him, although didn't need to see his grin to know her blush gave her away.</p><p>Even touching him, she still couldn't believe he was really there, but if three orgasms hadn’t woken her up, Makino didn’t know what would.</p><p>His mouth slanted a bit, but instead of a cheeky quip about raising his anchor or something equally true to form, “When I went to get the bottle earlier, I saw you’d already put out two glasses,” Shanks told her. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your plans?”</p><p>It was asked wholly without suspicion, holding instead the understanding of the one who knew her better than anyone, and who despite his own cheerful reminder left in her calendar had already known just what she’d planned for her birthday.</p><p>She didn’t know why that had tears pressing against her eyes, but his look didn’t change as Shanks ran his fingers through her hair and said, gently, “Happy birthday, my girl.”</p><p>“Why are you here?” Makino asked, the words that had brimmed in her chest spilling over before she could stop them. “I thought―”</p><p>She didn’t know how to formulate her feelings, for all that they’d become intimate friends over the past few months, but even aching with happiness, there was a part of her that couldn’t just accept him being there now.</p><p>They’d talked this over so many times. It wasn’t safe for him to call her, let alone to be going back and forth. In fact, it was the height of recklessness, and Makino couldn’t believe he’d come back just for her birthday. And maybe she should have just been happy, and not question a good thing while she had it, but she couldn’t help the defiance that reared back against the thought now, of accepting.</p><p>She didn’t want to ruin the moment, or the little time she had with him, and didn’t know if it was exhaustion or anger that made her react this way.</p><p>“It’s not safe,” she said, and heard that it sounded like an accusation. “You said it wasn’t safe. That if anyone found out who I am―”</p><p>She didn’t complete the thought, not because she didn’t know what might happen, because there hadn’t been a second over the past year where she hadn’t been aware of that danger; a consciousness that seemed to have burrowed into her spine, tense from trying to go about her life normally, and without checking the horizon for the sails she feared, white and blue, or black, and not knowing which she’d have preferred if she had to choose.</p><p>And she hadn’t been able to believe it had just been for her birthday, but, “My calendar,” Shanks said. “I’ve had your birthday marked. I’ve been looking at it for weeks, and when I saw it was getting close I just…”</p><p>He let the words trail off between them, but she didn’t need him to explain what had made him make the choice, even as she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the fact that he’d actually gone through with it. Not him, who for all his impulsivity had never been short-sighted, and would never have consciously done anything to endanger her. Not just to see her. Makino couldn't believe it.</p><p>“I don’t want to put you in danger,” Shanks said. His voice was serious now, no teasing in it as he offered the truth, so painfully simple, she wasn't prepared for it. “I just wanted to see you.”</p><p>The corner of his mouth lifted, as he added, this time with a glance at the ceiling, “And our son.” His brow creased. “Who’s been suspiciously quiet.”</p><p>Her throat had closed up; it was hard to speak, but, “He sleeps through the night now,” Makino said.</p><p>The implication didn’t escape him, the time that had passed since he’d been home, and she saw it from the way his features changed. The lamplight drew them harder, the dark shadow of his beard making him appear suddenly fearsome, but the feeling in his eyes was no trick of the dark, his regret worn openly for her to see.</p><p>“With the way things are,” Shanks said then, seeming to choose his words carefully, as he met her eyes, “I wanted to make sure I got to see you.”</p><p>He didn’t refer to anything specific, but then she followed the news, and there was no shortage of examples to choose from. The Reverie and the Warlords. Big Mom and Kaidou. Blackbeard. And he didn’t put to words what he really meant, but she heard it all the same.</p><p>
  <em> In case I won’t get another chance. </em>
</p><p>She felt her own defiance, although even her stubbornness couldn't alter the fact that he could make her all the promises in the world, to come back, to find her an island, that they’d have their peace, but they would mean nothing if he didn’t live through this.</p><p>But even if she shouldn’t be selfish, that she shouldn’t even have wanted this, “I’m glad,” Makino said, fiercely, and in defiance of facts and reason. “That you came.”</p><p>He reached for her then, pulled her into an embrace so hard it knocked her breath loose, before she responded by hugging him back, as tightly as she could. His cloak was tangled around her limbs, but she wasn’t bothered by the cold, or that her clothes were scattered over the floor, the reminder of their first time laying like this making her feel young, and reckless in this where she couldn’t afford to be in other ways.</p><p>“How long can you stay?” Makino asked, although she already knew the answer even before he gave it.</p><p>“We leave in the morning,” Shanks said. “Staying…increases the risk that someone will find out. I’ve been keeping a low profile since the Reverie, but the navy…”</p><p>He didn’t mention Blackbeard, but she was glad, although felt its presence in the storeroom, like the creeping shadows from the corners where the candles held them off.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Shanks said, and with so much sincerity it broke her heard, as he loosened his grip enough to look at her. “I know this was selfish, and that it’s not fair to you when I have to leave again right away.” His smile crooked, as he added, only half-teasing, “If I was a proper scoundrel, I’d steal you away. Take you with me, like we planned once.”</p><p>She felt the stirring in her gut; the smallest ripple. An echo of the feeling that had seized her earlier, when she’d thought he’d come back to get her.</p><p>He hadn’t phrased it as a question, or said it to make her feel guilty for what they had ultimately decided, even as Makino heard the hope in it, but then even respecting her wishes, he’d always been honest about what he felt. But he wouldn’t ask it of her, she knew. Not now, when it was more dangerous than ever, no matter what he might have wished for.</p><p>“We still have time,” Shanks said then, with the grin that could coax a silver lining from the darkest of situations; that <em>was</em> the silver lining, if there was no other to be found, as though he alone could compel that belief in others, nevermind his own feelings. “I want to see how big he’s grown.” Then, his lips grazing her ear, he rumbled, “And have you a few more times.”</p><p>As though to follow up on that promise, he gripped her chin, pulling her in for a kiss, and she might have managed a cheeky quip about pacing at his age, but what left her instead was a giggle as he rolled her over on her back, onto his cloak where it fell open.</p><p>His eyes drank her in where she lay beneath him, her small breasts perking in the cool air. She always found it hard to breathe when he looked at her like that.</p><p>She heard it in her voice when she asked him, “What happened to my party?”</p><p>One brow arched. "You mean I’m not enough of a party for you?” He wiggled his hips, his grin a scoundrel's promise as she snorted a laugh, before it continued when he kept going, and she had to press her hands against his chest.</p><p>Then his mouth found the tender spot on her neck, hitching her breath as she gasped, "Is there at least cake?"</p><p>“Cake?” Grinning, his lips skimmed her throat, his beard rough against her skin, the sensation exquisite combined with his tongue, drawing a moan from her lips as he asked her, “Is that what you want?”</p><p>Makino hummed, arching her neck as he kissed it. "If it has buttercream frosting, then―" she gasped as he found the right spot, her toes curling, "―<em>yes</em>."</p><p>His chuckle brushed her neck, the sound curling through her, right between her legs. His voice sounded deeper when he spoke. "What do I have to do to take your mind off the cake?"</p><p>“If you were covered in frosting we wouldn't be having this conversation,” Makino pointed out, giggling when he nipped at her ear, and could imagine his grin.</p><p>“Now <em> there’s </em> an idea.” Bending his head, he continued down her chest, fleeting kisses pressed along the divot of her sternum before he paused, nuzzling a small breast, her breath hitching as he mused, “Your next birthday. Maybe I’ll even jump out of a cake. How’s that for a reunion?”</p><p>Her laughter left her, soft and throaty, before his mouth closed around her breast and she yielded a different sound, coaxed by his tongue as he nipped and sucked, keeping her from overthinking what he meant―that he would be here for her next birthday, or that he’d just be returning―but she didn’t want to think that far.</p><p>His knee nudged between her legs, before the wide tip of his cock pushed past her entrance, still sore, but it seemed unimportant when his hand buried itself in her hair, as Shanks kissed her deeply and pushed all the way inside her.</p><p>The sound of the bat-wing doors swinging open loudly broke the kiss, but dazed from having him inside her, Makino wasn’t given the chance to react before the door that sat ajar opened fully, revealing a familiar tumble of blond dreadlocks, before Yasopp reared back with a laughing curse, “Whoa! <em> Jesus</em>, Boss!”</p><p>She felt as Shanks pulled out, the sudden loss leaving her bereft and disoriented, but he was one step ahead of her, and had pulled his cloak back across her before she could even think to scramble for it. He didn’t move away immediately, his big frame shielding her from the figure who’d materialised in the doorway.</p><p>Familiar laughter coloured the air as Yasopp leaned against the frame, his arms crossed. Aside from his initial reaction, he seemed unfazed by what he’d walked in on. “Ma-chan,” he said, mock-scandalised. “I would expect this kind of debauchery from you, Boss, but this is a public house.”</p><p>“One that’s currently closed for business,” Shanks enunciated, with a pointed look over his shoulder. He made no attempt to cover himself, but checked that she was before he rolled over on his side, and with an ease Makino didn’t know if should be called confident or obstinate.</p><p>For her own part, she was trying her best to sink through the floor. Thankfully, his cloak was so big it covered her whole.</p><p>Yasopp’s grin only widened, but despite his teasing, it was with stark sincerity that he told her, “You're lovely as ever, Makino, but then that cloak always looks good on you.”</p><p>“<em>Thank you,</em>” rose her voice, muffled from under the mound of fabric.</p><p>“Do you mind?” Shanks asked. His own nakedness seemed to be brandished like a challenge, but Yasopp seemed no more concerned by it than the edge in his voice.</p><p>“I was asked to check on you two,” he informed them. “Should have figured this is how I’d find you. Bare ass on display, like you’re not turning forty this year.”</p><p>“In defence of my bare ass, <em> you </em>were the one who walked in on it,” Shanks countered. “And count your blessings that was all you saw.”</p><p>As though in silent affirmation, Yasopp wasn’t looking at her, but lifted his eyes to the storeroom instead, his smile noting the candles, but, “Didn’t even make it upstairs, huh?” He shook his head, although his grin this time looked curiously gentle. “Guess no one takes the pool this time, but then we all thought she’d be in bed by the time you got here.”</p><p>From under the cloak, Makino mumbled, “I was doing inventory.”</p><p>His grin grew to shit-eating proportions, and she knew she was going to regret saying that even before Yasopp looked at his captain and chirped, “Doing more than that, but then you did get a surprise shipment. Sampled it already, too, by the looks of it.”</p><p>“Seriously,” Shanks said, the edge in his voice harder now, although it was a protectiveness that didn’t surprise her. “<em>Do </em>you mind?”</p><p>Ignoring him, although his apologetic grin acknowledged her discomfort, and that sharp gaze was fixed resolutely on his captain as Yasopp told her, “Your party’s waiting. I know Boss thinks he’s a walking birthday feast―”</p><p>“Accurate,” Shanks shot in under his breath.</p><p>“―but we were all hoping we’d get to see you. Would be a shame if we didn’t get to present you with our gifts. We really outdid ourselves this year.”</p><p>She knew it wasn’t what he’d meant, familiar with their penchant for cheerful excess, but with a glance at Shanks, naked on the floor of her storeroom, Makino quietly agreed, “You did.”</p><p>Yasopp’s look softened, before he grinned and said, “Speaking of gifts. If you're lucky, you might get to see Ben drunk off his ass. We brought the sake you had for your wedding. It’s not your anniversary yet, but there’s nothing that says we can’t celebrate in advance.”</p><p>“Yasopp,” Shanks warned, with an inflection that announced his patience void, and that had a shiver shooting up her spine.</p><p>“Fine, fine,” he chuckled, as he pushed away from the door. “So are you coming or what? By the way, I mean that literally, as I’m pretty sure I didn’t let you finish.”</p><p>The pulse of haki was subtle but <em>felt</em>, and, “Get out,” Shanks said, this time with such a stark note of command, she didn't know if it was that or the haki that had her breath hitching, but Yasopp only laughed, although swept his hand in a gesture of deference as he backed out of the storeroom.</p><p>“I’ll get your boy,” he called over his shoulder. “There’s booze and cake on the ship. Well, there’s booze. You guys took so long, the cake is probably gone.”</p><p>They listened to the sound of his footsteps up the stairs, his laughter drifting down to them.</p><p>She was still hiding under the cloak, and wasn’t sure if she was shaking from tears or laughter, although the joy that filled her wouldn’t be mistaken for anything else, so fierce it hurt.</p><p>Shanks shook his head, and meeting her eyes, said, “We all come as a set, apparently.”</p><p>Her tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she didn’t have the voice to tell him how happy she was that it was the case.</p><p>Reaching for her cheek, he caught them with his thumb. “Although this part of you I’m glad I get to keep to myself.” Then with a look, “Barring certain shameless voyeurs. I’ll find a fitting punishment for him later. Unless you’d like to do the honours? You are the birthday girl.”</p><p>Her smile trembled at the offered authority, but then he'd never had qualms about sharing it. “I’ll let you know if I think of something.”</p><p>Bending down, he pressed a kiss where her hair parted at the top of her forehead, lingering a beat, before he said, “Come on, or they’ll all be showing up next.” His eyes were smiling, the gleam in them familiar. “And we can finish this in my cabin. See how many times I can have you before sunrise.”</p><p>The reminder stabbed her, but maybe she needed it, before she forgot. She was already doing a terrible job of keeping her expectations under control. It had only been a few hours since she’d thought she’d have given anything just for five minutes to talk to him, but now that he was there, all she could think about was that she didn’t want to let him go.</p><p>Helping her to her feet, they dressed together, which was always an affair with him, who could never keep from touching her, but after so many mornings spent dressing herself in silence, it was such a fiercely welcome change, as rough, thieving fingers helped tug her chemise into place, before distracting her from pulling on her skirt by running up her thigh, coaxing her laughter out with kisses as she fumbled with her stays.</p><p>She helped him pull on his shirt, his spine curved so she could reach him as she lifted up on her toes, before he straightened as she sank back on her heels, the stark difference between them thrown in sudden emphasis, standing so close.</p><p>Smoothing her hands down his shirt, she reached for the buttons, trying her best not to notice how badly they were shaking, but even with their lovemaking fresh in mind, the small intimacy of just helping him dress hit her so hard, she hadn't been prepared for it.</p><p>A crooked knuckle tipped her chin up, his brows furrowed above his eyes in a look she didn't understand until Shanks asked her, “How have you been sleeping?”</p><p>Makino folded her lips. And she said nothing, but then she didn't need to say anything, when he saw her.</p><p>His hand reached around the back of her neck, tangling in her hair as he pulled her close, a wordless answer that didn't judge, that only saw, and it took everything she had not to crumble as she tightened her arms around him.</p><p>A kiss to the top of her head, before he turned to blow out the lights, but her voice stopped him before he could, “Shanks?”</p><p>He looked back, questioning. And it wasn’t a big wish, wasn’t anything at all, but it felt like it when she asked him, “Can I sleep in your cabin tonight?” She hastened to add, “I know you’re leaving in the morning, I just―”</p><p>“Yeah,” Shanks said, his voice rough. “Of course you can.” His smile tilted, a little chagrined. “I’d warn you that you might wake up halfway across the world, but I would never do that.”</p><p>Makino held her tongue, the words teetering on the precipice of her heart, where they had stood for twelve years, like the girl on the very edge of the quay, her eyes on the horizon.</p><p>He blew out the candles as she collected the tumblers of whiskey, handing him one before they silently raised them to each other, then knocked them together and tipped them back in one mouthful.</p><p>Yasopp had already gone ahead with the baby, and the village slept as they walked to the ship. And seeing it there, its red lanterns lit against the dark, she felt that stirring within her, the barest ripple that grew as they walked together along the quay, their hands brushing, then up the gangplank and across the deck, building within her as she lifted her eyes to the masts and the rolled-up sails she’d spent so many months trying not to look for, growing and growing as they reached the deckhouse, and the party within that had already announced itself coming aboard.</p><p>Shanks held the door open for her, allowing her to walk in first, and she watched as they all turned towards her, and with a cheer she felt through her whole body, spurring the feeling within her like a rising wave―</p><p>“<strong><em>Happy birthday, Makino</em></strong>!”</p><p>Her bottom lip trembled, before she tucked it between her teeth, but when the cheer continued, had to cup her mouth with her palm to stop the sob that left her.</p><p>She saw their grins where they softened, but it didn’t touch the noise, or the atmosphere where it welcomed her like open arms.</p><p>Her gaze roamed the full tables, and every presence within, all of them accounted for, but she had no words to accept their congratulations, or even just to greet them back.</p><p>From the long table in the middle, “It was technically yesterday,” Ben said, with a pointed look at his captain where he’d closed the door behind them. “Someone just took their sweet time collecting you.”</p><p>Coming up behind her, “Nowhere in that request did it say I couldn’t have a proper reunion with my wife,” Shanks said, his eyes fleeting down to hers with a private look, and a smile that refused to share the contents of that reunion with anyone else.</p><p>Of course, they’d already been informed of some of it.</p><p>“So Yasopp said he found you guys in the storeroom?”</p><p>“Gives a new meaning to the phrase ‘taking stock’!”</p><p>“Or something that rhymes with ‘stock’, anyhow,” another supplied, as they all answered with an approving holler of ‘<em>hear!</em>’ that had Makino hiding her mortified grin against his shirt, although that only seemed to encourage them.</p><p>“Doing inventory suddenly sounds like a lot more fun,” a voice cut in, to hoots of agreement, before he continued, “And I guess it is a kind of inventory, if you consider rearranging someone’s insides―”</p><p>Someone clapped their hand over his mouth before he could finish, although it was a touch too late, and their roaring laughter didn’t help her horrified blush.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Makino murmured, and heard his chuckle against her ear, sounding soft and for her.</p><p>“They’ll be finished soon,” Shanks told her, his voice pitched low as his fingers stroked her hair. His hand cupped the back of her head where she was trying her best to disappear into him. “Two more pantry-related jokes. Three, tops.”</p><p>“But we get that you wanted to sample the goods, Makino!” called a voice from across the galley.</p><p>“Not every day you get a forty-year-old vintage!”</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>,” Shanks cut in sharply, with surprising affront. Or maybe not<em> so</em> surprising. “It’s not forty just yet.” Then to where she still had her face hidden in his shirt, tears of laughter clinging to her lashes, “But it is a good vintage.” His grin widened, filthy as he quipped, “Firm and full-bodied.”</p><p>She couldn’t stop smiling, the happiness within her refusing to be cowed now, drawn out by their laughter from where she’d protected it with all her stubbornly practical resolve, fearing to hope she could have it but unable to feel anything else now under their reckless encouragement, which was the same as it had been when she’d been nineteen, and hadn’t known to fear.</p><p>The words when she spoke them pulled from her like they’d been released from their shackles.</p><p>“Take me with you.”</p><p>They all looked at her. And she’d barely raised her voice, but it silenced the whole galley.</p><p>For once undaunted by being the centre of attention, “When you leave this time,” Makino said, her gaze going towards their son in Yasopp’s arms, before meeting Shanks'. “Take me with you”</p><p>His expression was serious, wiped of his earlier grin, even as he didn’t bother tempering the hope in it, or in his voice when he asked her, “You’re sure?”</p><p>She didn’t hesitate. “I don’t want to be here for another birthday.” And there was far more in it than just the day itself; was every new year it marked, and had marked, for the past twelve years.</p><p>She didn’t know what had done it, if it was just being among them again that had reminded her of someone she’d forgotten, but when she spoke now it was without fear of what wanting so much could earn her.</p><p>“I want the horizon,” Makino told him fiercely. Her grin couldn’t be helped, but she didn’t try, finding it reflected on all the faces in the galley.</p><p>Then, this time to Shanks, “And I want to be there for your fortieth,” she said, not wishing now but stating a fact, and with enough defiance to challenge even the Fates, to let them know she’d accept no other option. “And your fiftieth, and your―”</p><p>He'd cut her off before she could finish, accepting her demands with a kiss so fierce it felt like a vow, and her laughter was as helpless as her tears, although it was drowned out by the roaring approval from the crew around them. But she caught his laughter, soft and winded against her ear when he broke the kiss to hug her, which felt more telling than any spoken promise he could have offered her in that moment.</p><p>Still swept up in her own feelings, she barely noticed what was happening as she was ushered towards one of the benches, the noise wrapping around her, and this, too, felt like a dream, an old, well-thumbed memory of the first time she’d been welcomed among them, the similarities so stark that for a moment, it was almost like she’d been transported back.</p><p>But when she blinked, the faces looking back at her were older, even as their grins looked untouched from what they had been. And there were more differences, although nothing seemed more significant than the baby in their keeping, wholly at ease among all the new faces, having been too young when they’d left to remember them, but that didn’t seem to matter.</p><p>Yasopp handed him over to Shanks, prompting a delighted little coo, and all her joy at having him back couldn’t compare to the feeling that filled her when his smile wavered, and he had nothing at all to say. At least not until his eyes found hers and he told her roughly, “We’ll need a sturdier crib,” and her laugh pulled from her with a sob.</p><p>“I can get right on that,” Yasopp offered, as he took a seat on the bench adjacent to theirs. “Say the word and I’ll put in a bar for you, too, Makino. In case you ever miss it.”</p><p>Shanks' eyes held a question, asking her if she would, but, “I’ll have to find my sea legs first,” Makino said, smiling. “If I’m to stay on my feet with a tray on the high seas.”</p><p>“I’ll help you,” Shanks said. “If we’re going to make it a profitable business, we should probably think about utilising the space better, at least if we want to fit more customers.”</p><p>“We?” she asked, quietly.</p><p>Shanks just looked at her. And she shouldn't be surprised, she knew, but with everything that had changed, it almost felt like too much, to hope.</p><p>They fell quiet, observing their son’s newfound fascination with his beard, before Shanks said, heavily, “Had I known this was what you wanted, I would have whisked you away years ago.”</p><p>There was another unspoken question there, asking if he should have known, and if he should have pushed, instead of accepting her choice at face value. But he’d never asked more of her than she’d been comfortable giving; had let her decide the pace, even in this.</p><p>“I think I needed the time,” Makino said. This was a realisation she had come to recently, but now that she knew it, she felt no doubt. “Not to figure out what I wanted, but just to…realise that I dared.”</p><p>His smile crooked, before it widened when Ace blew a raspberry, but the stark sincerity in his voice struck her when he said, “I’ve never doubted that.”</p><p>There was no hesitation there, or even exaggeration, but then he had always believed in her, and had thought her capable of so much, long before she’d believed the same about herself.</p><p>Her chest ached, but not with pain this time, and of all the gifts he’d ever given her, she didn’t tell him that what she held dearest was the happiness he’d brought to her life, which wasn’t a gift given only once, but the look in his eyes where they beheld her promised a repeated giving, every year and more besides. And he had always been prepared for that, she knew now, but happiness could never just be offered. You had to choose to take it, when you had the chance.</p><p>“Garp really will kill me for this,” Shanks said then, and she hummed.</p><p>“And he was just getting used to us being married.”</p><p>His grin looked painfully affectionate. “No he wasn’t.”</p><p>Pursing her lips, demure, “No,” she agreed, but for all of Garp’s misgivings, that was a choice she’d never regretted. The precursor to the one she’d made now, Makino thought, watching him make faces at their son, who laughed and curled his fingers in his beard.</p><p>Shanks' expression changed then, turned serious as he told her, “It will be dangerous." His eyes held hers. Around them, the din churned, their laughter seeming to cheerfully defy even the suggestion of danger, even as she didn't have to look far to find it, in their sword-calloused hands, and their presences, as ready as the weapons still at their waists. "The New World isn’t what it used to be, and even then sailing it was discouraged.”</p><p>Makino didn't drop her gaze from his, only told him gently, “I know.”</p><p>“You’ll be safe,” Shanks said, and with a look at their son, dozing against his shoulder now, “I’ll make sure of it.”</p><p>Her smile didn't need more prompting. And this was something she’d never doubted, no matter how dangerous that world promised to be, and it was with a different inflection now that she said, “I know.”</p><p>Then, “Speaking of dangerous,” Makino said, and with a look that had his brows quirking. “What are your plans for your fortieth?”</p><p>His grin flashed, and she’d expected something cheeky in response, but she wasn’t prepared for the way his eyes softened as Shanks told her, “I already have everything I want.”</p><p>Surprise had her smile faltering, and she had to blink her eyes against the tears, and tried to cover it with a laugh, even as she knew her face betrayed her, and her voice, but didn't care. “So a massive middle-age crisis blow-out?”</p><p>“Oh it’ll be one for the history books,” Shanks said, grinning. “We could invite Luffy, if he’s not too busy conquering the sea. He’ll be happy to see you, I bet. Might also be a good time to tell him that we got married. And had a kid. You know, he might not be so happy with <em> me </em> after that; he’s really protective of you, so it’s a good thing you’re here to smooth things over. We could even coax Mihawk out of hiding, now that he’s officially a pirate again. Normally he’d refuse―he still pretends we don’t share a birthday, like I’d let him forget!―but he has an embarrassing soft spot for you.”</p><p>“And is this what I’ll be doing from now on?” she asked, smiling. “Help you close your negotiations?”</p><p>Once again he caught her off guard, expecting a different answer, and not for his expression to look entirely in earnest, as Shanks said, “Only if that’s what you want.”</p><p>Still no expectations. Even on his ship, even having chosen this life, he made no assumptions of what she should do, or be, even if she could so clearly see it in his eyes now, what he wanted, and had wanted, Makino thought, for a long time. But he’d kept it to himself, like she had, not wanting to tempt the Fates, by asking for more.</p><p>But this time, “It is,” Makino said, fearless. “It is what I want.”</p><p>His grin widened―somehow fiercely proud and achingly tender all at once. The look that was hers, no matter who she was, although she wondered if she hadn’t always been this person, to him.</p><p>Then to the galley, “So, my scallywags,” Shanks threw out, his voice raised with that raw and cheeky lilt he used when he sang to her,</p><p>“Want to help me steal my Empress away?”</p><p>The<em> roar </em> that answered drowned out everything else, and woke their son, blinking sleepily where he’d dozed off against his father’s neck, his little features drawing together with confusion, and even sensing an impending wail, there was no regret within her, but then for the very first time in her life she had everything she’d ever wanted, and without having to let any of it go. And even more besides, with his promise of the horizon, and a bar on the water, spoiled more than she’d ever been, even by their own standards, but this time she didn’t put up a fight.</p><p>But then it was her birthday, whatever the clock said. And if not, well...</p><p>Pirates didn't really bother with small technicalities.</p><p> </p><p>―</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t take long before she had to face the reality of her decision.</p><p>A few hours, to be exact.</p><p>She was woken by someone gently shaking her awake, only to blink into the dawn-darkened captain’s quarters, at first so disoriented from a night of undisturbed sleep she didn’t understand where she was, before realisation caught up with her, finding Shanks smiling down at her, already awake, although it was far from the lazy morning she’d anticipated, knowing her husband, who usually woke her with much gentler methods, and with a lot more tongue.</p><p>“What is it?” she murmured, sleepy and confused, and surprised he was already up, not to mention dressed, and when the sun wasn’t even out, but before she could muster a comment on either, Shanks beat her to it.</p><p>“We have to go,” he said, sounding suspiciously chipper given that it was technically still dark out.</p><p>Struggling to catch up, “Already?” Makino murmured. She hadn’t even said good-bye yet, and she still needed to pack and make sure her affairs were in order, and cancel her shipments, and―</p><p>His understanding look told her he knew what she was thinking, although the note of apology in it asked for her forgiveness, but whatever she’d expected to be his reason for moving their departure up, it wasn’t what she got, and when Shanks looked at her and told her, “We’re under attack,” she didn’t even react.</p><p>It took her a moment of just staring at him, before Makino croaked, a little more awake now, “What?”</p><p>A kiss to the top of her head, his grin adoring at the sight of her confusion, before he moved to hunt down her clothes. “Nothing serious,” he threw back over his shoulder, as he picked her skirt off the planks to toss it on the bunk, followed by her underthings. And still reeling, Makino could only hold them numbly, watching as he fished her stockings out from their hiding places, pausing only to flash her a rakish grin before he tossed her panties at her. “Just a little cannon fire.”</p><p>He’d barely spoken the words when something shook the whole ship, nearly causing her to tumble off the bunk.</p><p>Scrambling where she’d gotten trapped in the sheets, “<em>Cannon fire?</em>” Makino asked shrilly.</p><p>Walking back from his hunt for her clothes, he dropped her stays on the bunk, reaching for her chin to kiss her, quick and grinning before he withdrew. “Seriously,” he said. “It’s no big deal. It’s just a fleet of ships. An Admiral, maybe.”</p><p>“An <em> Adm</em>―”</p><p>The sound of something hitting the water sent the ship rocking again. Shanks’ footing didn’t even budge, even as she nearly toppled out of the bunk, but he’d reached out to steady her before she could.</p><p>She was the one who was bare-assed naked this time, but she didn’t have the mind to put on her clothes, but then this was so far from her usual morning routine, just the simple act of dressing seemed suddenly too complicated for her mind to deal with.</p><p>She didn’t know who had Ace, and was about to ask Shanks when she sensed a presence approaching, and thankfully had enough mind to scramble to cover herself with the sheets as Lucky poked his head inside.</p><p>“Boss,” he said, with the same unnerving calm Shanks exhibited. Instead of his usual cut of meat, he had the baby on his arm, sucking on his pacifier and seeming entirely unconcerned by what was going on. “Ben’s asking for you. Something about demands to release our hostages.” Then to her where she sat clutching the sheets to her chest, he grinned. “Morning, Makino."</p><p>It took her a second for his words to register, but before she could choke out her horror, recognising suddenly <em> why </em> they were under fire, Shanks flashed her a grin and chirped, “If it helps with the cannons, think of it like a birthday salute.”</p><p>She was still gaping, and couldn’t muster a response as he chuckled and ducked his head to steal another kiss from her parted lips, before moving to follow Lucky.</p><p>She could hear the others now, as she scrambled from the bunk to get dressed, pulling on her chemise and hurriedly tying her hair back as she struggled to stay on her feet, her kerchief missing and her stockings ripped, and she couldn't find her underwear in the rumpled sheets and so gave up looking, and was pulling on her boots when the ship lurched again, nearly causing her to fall over, and abandoned the rest of the venture, in her skirt and stays as she stumbled through the passage and into the galley, where Marsh was busy with breakfast, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.</p><p>He raised his spatula in greeting as she came hurtling past. “One or two eggs?”</p><p>Halting before she’d reached the door, Makino had to concentrate to remember what he’d asked her. “What?”</p><p>“Eggs,” he said, as another cannonball whistled past outside. “One or two?”</p><p>She stared at him, and meant to ask if he was being <em> serious </em> when the ship shuddered, and she had to grab one of the tables for support. Marsh hadn't even flinched, or stopped cooking; had just lifted the cast-iron skillet off the griddle.</p><p>There was a commotion outside, and his question about the eggs was forgotten as she ripped open the door to the deck.</p><p>Dawn greeted her with a blushing sky and a calm sea, although it took her staring at it for a full beat to realise they’d already raised anchor and left port. She could see Fuschia in the distance, still close enough that she could make out the people gathered on the quay. Makino thought she spotted Woop Slap, and had the sudden thought to wonder if she’d remembered to do all the dishes before closing up, before realising a moment later that she wouldn’t be opening her bar today.</p><p>She hadn’t even had time to say good-bye, although there was a far more pressing issue demanding her attention now, as she lifted her eyes to the horizon, which had her whole life been the same.</p><p>Navy warships.</p><p>A<em> lot </em>of navy warships.</p><p>“It would seem they’ve been keeping closer tabs on us than we thought,” Ben said, as he came to stand beside her. He didn’t remark on her half-dressed state, and seemed no more concerned than the rest of them, a cigarette resting between his teeth as he surveyed the fleet.</p><p>“There goes our plan for a discreet abduction,” Yasopp agreed, his arms crossed where he leaned them on the railing.</p><p>“Is it Kizaru?” someone asked.</p><p>“Dunno, was some rando who spoke over the loudspeaker. Maybe it’s the top dog himself?”</p><p>“I doubt Akainu would show up personally, but then he’s got such a huge bone to pick with Boss, I wouldn’t put it past him, either.”</p><p>“Morgans will be all over this,” someone else agreed. “Won’t be long until they find out why we came here.”</p><p>Makino sensed their eyes on her, and their concern, and didn’t know if it was for her safety or because she’d change her mind, although from their otherwise unfazed reactions to the navy fleet, she thought it might be the latter. And she might have assured them she’d been prepared for this, but then that would have been a bald-faced lie, and so she didn’t try.</p><p>Shanks’ brows had furrowed, considering the ships, his chipper mood from before having eased into a seriousness she didn’t recognise, no doubt by the implication of what the navy finding her there would mean. And it was a curious realisation she had then, that she’d never seen this side of him, but it wasn’t a jarring change from the man she knew. Instead it only felt like a piece had fallen into place; something she’d always known was there, just had never seen with her own eyes.</p><p>She looked around the deck, and the rest of their crew where they’d come to stand around her, not an overt demonstration of protectiveness but one that was still felt, even with their breezy response to the warships ahead of them.</p><p>And standing there, it was still a feat convincing herself she wasn’t dreaming, and that this wasn’t just another vivid fantasy spurred to life by her imagination, but even blinking, she didn’t wake in her own bed, or the storeroom, a new day greeting her that promised to be the same as the one before it, a year older but feeling no wiser in her choices.</p><p>But she had chosen this, and that was no dream, even if it was the same horizon she’d spent so many years watching, standing on the tip of the quay, and while it looked no closer than it ever had from the deck of his ship, Makino felt the difference, although within herself more than anything.</p><p>Of course, there was also the navy fleet blocking it.</p><p>Another cannonball whistled through the air, before it hit the water next to the prow.</p><p>“Are you sure it’s not Garp?” Yasopp asked, as Shanks made a humourless sound.</p><p>“Garp wouldn’t miss.”</p><p>Yasopp grinned. “Good point.”</p><p>She didn’t know if she should take their breezy attitudes as reassuring or just the opposite, but then she didn’t know what to expect. As a law-abiding citizen with no criminal record, navy sails had never meant anything but Garp coming to visit, but like the horizon, she felt the difference now, not just in where she was standing but <em> who </em> she stood there as.</p><p>She was startled out of her staring at the warships by rough fingers tilting her chin, and, “Head on back inside, my girl,” Shanks said, his smile reassuring, even if it wasn’t necessary. “This won’t take long, but you’ll be safe in my cabin.”</p><p>He wasn’t referring just to the cannon fire, and any other time, Makino thought she would have followed that suggestion, recognising her position, now more than ever before, but watching as he turned away to cross the deck―</p><p>“No,” she said, and saw Shanks turn his head, as they all looked at her.</p><p>Shanks watched her, calmly assessing. And she was still wearing her clothes from the day before, or at least most of them, and only her apron was missing from what she’d wear any other day. She had no weapons on her, and no more seafaring experience than she'd ever had, and it would have been safer to keep hiding her identity, and to keep out of the spotlight for as long as she could, knowing there’d be no turning back once the world knew.</p><p>Once, she would have agreed to all those things, and that it was for the best. The barmaid she’d been yesterday would have, and even the land-bound pirate she’d fancied herself as, recognising the wisdom of keeping a low profile on this sea, especially with this particular crew and captain.</p><p>Thirty-two.</p><p>She didn’t know what she was doing, was out of her depth and on unsteady ground for the first time in her life, but she didn’t feel afraid, taking in the crew around her, their grins wide with dawning realisation, and feeling instead like she’d never been more sure that she’d made the right choice, even the day she’d stood here, with her bare feet and crown of flowers.</p><p>Coming up to stand beside him by the taffrail, she looked out at the line of ships, their white and blue sails blocking the horizon, her decision made, and saw from his expression that Shanks had caught it, the fierce pride in it as she said, with all the conviction befitting her new position,</p><p>“Let them know who I am.”</p><p> </p><p>―</p><p> </p><p>Her photograph was in the paper the very next day. She’d been prepared for it, and what it might reveal (the two of them, laughing, trailed by cannon fire, and the kiss he’d stolen), and so didn’t balk at the front-page placement or what they’d named her―she’d offered an official statement, to the impressively tenacious journalist who’d shouted across the water for a comment as the ship he’d been on gobbled up water through its gaping hull―although she did take gentle offence to the suggestion that she had anything personally to do with sinking that fleet.</p><p>At least they’d chosen a good picture to go with the announcement. And it bothered her less than she’d thought it would, for the whole world to know her name, but then she’d made her bed now, and was prepared to lie in it.</p><p>For certain individuals, the news was unexpected, but not a surprise.</p><p>“About damn time,” Dadan only said, arriving at the village to find them all in her bar, cheerfully delighting in their renewed notoriety, their glasses full, but then she’d left the pantry fully stocked, and kept such an organised system, it wouldn’t require much to pick up where she’d left off.</p><p>Halfway across the world, in an undisclosed location, one erstwhile Warlord considered the newspaper, and the photograph where it took up the whole front page. Not a bad one of her, he had to admit. It could have done without Red-Hair, but then it wouldn’t have been the money shot the photographer had no doubt made a fine sum selling to the press.</p><p>Then again, with the current state of the world, the public would probably welcome a back-bending kiss gracing the front page to everything else going on.</p><p>He glanced at the date under the headline. His birthday was approaching, which meant it was time for him to disappear, and at least there, his current predicament provided a useful excuse, what with the navy's ongoing manhunt. Of course, his repeated attempts at hiding had never thwarted Red-Hair, who insisted on celebrating and who’d have an ace up his sleeve this year, and she wasn’t one to be dissuaded, Mihawk knew, from experience.</p><p>A look at the beguiling dark eyes in the newspaper, he sighed, and wondered wryly if surrendering himself to his former employers would be a viable option.</p><p>All the way over in New Marineford, Garp had no comment to give, and tossed the reporter who asked into the bay before he could finish saying<em> ‘Rumour has it she is as close as a daughter to you, and would you say that makes you Red-Hair’s father-in―’ </em></p><p>But however different their reactions to it, the news of her abrupt change of careers wasn’t surprising, for those who knew her.</p><p>Well. Barring one exception.</p><p>The morning sky lay open over Wano, a rare moment of quietude between its bouts of recent unrest, broken only by the gentle sigh of the breeze through the cherry blossoms.</p><p>And the shrill voice of one recently named Emperor of the Sea, notorious upstart and illustrious captain of the Straw-Hat Pirates, currently in possession of the most recent edition of the newspaper and who for five whole seconds had forgotten that he was hungry. Oh, and that there was a war on, but presently, there was something else that took precedent.</p><p>“<em>Makino?!</em>”</p><p> </p>
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